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Chapter 27

           HefollowedNewttotheseconddoorontherightandwatchedastheolderboyknockedlightly;amoansoundedinreply.Newtpushedopenthedoor,theslightcreakonceagainremindingThomasofsomevaguechildhoodmemoryofhaunted-housemovies.Thereitwasagainthesmallestglimpseathispast.Hecouldremembermovies,butnottheactors’facesorwithwhomhe’dwatchedthem.Hecouldremembertheaters,butnotwhatanyspecificonelookedlike.Itwasimpossibletoexplainhowthatfelt,eventohimself.

           NewthadsteppedintotheroomandwasmotioningforThomastofollow.Asheentered,hepreparedhimselfforthehorrorthatmightawait.Butwhenhiseyeslifted,allhesawwasaveryweak-lookingteenageboylyinginhisbed,eyesclosed.

           "Isheasleep?"Thomaswhispered,tryingtoavoidtherealquestionthathadpoppedinhismind:He’snotdead,ishe?

           "Idon’tknow,"Newtsaidquietly.Hewalkedoverandsatinawoodenchairnexttothebed.Thomastookaseatontheotherside.

           "Alby,"Newtwhispered.Thenmoreloudly:"Alby.ChucksaidyouwantedtotalktoTommy."

           Alby’seyesflutteredopenbloodshotorbsthatglistenedinthelight.HelookedatNewt,thenacrossatThomas.Withagroanheshiftedinthebedandsatup,hisbackagainsttheheadboard."Yeah,"hemuttered,ascratchycroak.

           "Chucksaidyouwerethrashin’around,actinglikealoonie."Newtleanedforward."What’swrong?Youstillsick?"

           Alby’snextwordscameoutinawheeze,asifeveryoneofthemwouldtakeaweekoffhislife.

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